


Oh Darkness, I Feel Like Letting Go

by KassandraScarlett



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 16:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassandraScarlett/pseuds/KassandraScarlett
Summary: Based on the Avengers: Endgame trailer...Tony records his swan song.





	Oh Darkness, I Feel Like Letting Go

  It's over. It's all over. Isn't it?

  Nebula, the RoboCop lady, is still attempting to send out a signal, still trying to find appropriate jump points that'll cover large distances. Apparently, more than 50 jumps isn't good for a human, and I'm in an especially pitiable state.

  I don't why she's bothering trying to preserve my life. I'm done.

  But, I know she hopes there are still people who are fighting. She hopes there are people who would still be willing to move against Thanos. She's trying to take the ship to Earth, Terra as she calls it, hoping that I might be able to rally a team.

  I don't want to rob her of that. Hope can be a powerful motivator and if she still has it, I'm not going to take it away. Not when I've lost all of mine.

  It's almost funny how, after having faced death so many times, I've kinda developed a sort of sixth sense for it. I can feel it creeping up on me now. And I know that this time, it's real.

  The mask of the Iron Man suit is staring at me, waiting, mocking. The rest of the nanobots are still stored in my chest compartment, but the mask... I need it, battered and dented as it is.

  " _Is this thing on_?" I mutter, tapping the small recording button on it.

  I take a second to figure out what I want to say.

  " _Hey Miss Potts_." Professional. Just like old times. Not _Pepper_. Not _Pep_. Not _Mrs Stark_ , like she was going to be. No need to make this hurt more for her than inevitable. Keep it distant and unattached.

  " _If you find this recording, don't feel bad_ ," I instruct firmly. My voice is cracking from _god-knows-how-much-time_ of disuse.

  " _Part of the journey is the end_ ," I muse. Technically, a happy ending is also supposed to be part of a journey, but even I can't delude myself into thinking I deserve that.

  " _For the record, drifting along in space with zero chance of rescue is a lot more fun than it sounds_." That probably isn't the right thing to say, but I'll be damned if I can't make a joke out of my own death.

  " _Food and water ran out four days ago. Oxygen runs out tomorrow morning. And that'll be it_." I know Pepper isn't going to accept it, and I hate that I have to put her through this, but I'm also relieved. I don't deserve a happy ending, but maybe I can find some peace. And at the same time, I'm glad that Pet- Spiderli- Undero- the kid went so easily. Fast. Painless. Not this slow torture.

  " _When I drift off_ ," I murmur. " _I will dream about you_." You, your smile when I told you about my dream, your unshakable faith in me that I would always make it back to you. The faith I'm breaking now. Well, so much for unattached.

" _It's always you_ ," I whisper. It's a promise and it's the truest thing I've ever said. Not a goodbye; just because I'm dying, doesn't mean I'll stop loving her, or missing her. I'll come back as a ghost just to see her if I have to.

  I turn the recording off, hoping the quantum homing system will be enough to bounce the message from port to port until it gets to SI satellites and then to Pepper.

  And I can't help but caress the mask, can't help but imagine it's Pepper cheeks, or Rhodey's shoulders, or the kid's hair.

  I think of them, of FRIDAY, JARVIS, the bots, Vision, even Steve and Natasha and Clint. Of Bruce. Thor. I think of Stephen Strange, how he trusted me enough to sacrifice the Stone for me.

  I think of a kid in Tennessee, who'd thought Iron Man was the coolest hero.

  I think of all the people back on Earth who were dusted, the people who'd watched their loved ones crumble.

  I'm pretty sure I've failed them all.

  I just wish I had the will left to regret it. Instead, all I have the energy to do is lean back against the wall of the ship and wait for Judgement.

  Then again, I'm not a religious man. So maybe not peace, but oblivion?

  I'll take it.

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: bad-days-and-beautiful-nights


End file.
